The Things Between Us
by Dead Pollen
Summary: Setting up a comically depressing dating profile behind your friend's back shouldn't have been as easy as it was. But even where the dreams of a costal city smell like condoms and old fish, A-material is all there is. A/U
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VIII

Summary: Setting up a comically depressing dating profile behind your friend's back shouldn't have been as easy as it was. But even where the dreams of a coastal city smell like condoms and old fish, A-material is all there is. A/U

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**The Things Between Us**

Prologue: You Shouldn't Be Online Looking for a Date in the First Place

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_-* indicates required field_

*_Name: Squall L._

_Sign: Virgo_

_Age: 21_

*_About me: Whatever. Whoever reads this, there's not a lot to say about me. I don't like most things. And conversation is an unnecessary thing in human interaction. I think catch phrases like "bummer" or "booyaka" are dumb and childish-_

"Selphie, don't you think that's a bit too specific. He'll know it was you."

"It's not like he'll ever see this... But, okay, I'll take it out."

_backspace_

_-in human interaction. I'm easy to pick out in the crowd. I'm probably the only one on this island who wears black at the beach. Oh yeah, I hate the beach. I am educated. I received a degree at the prestigious Balamb Garden. And if you haven't heard of it, its kind of a big deal. I'm not really creepy. I'd just rather have nothing to do with you, that's all_.-

Selphie leaned back in her chair, satisfied. She took a deep breath, while Quistis read over her shoulder. They'd spent hours on this profile, and were beyond laughing out loud and snickering. "Hmm. It's missing something. A closer." Selphie leaned back over her laptop, her mouth squishing into duck lips as she tried to think of something.

Quistis backed away from the monitor, pacing back and forth while gracefully picking her wine glass up from a table in the dimly lit bedroom. "He needs some kind of saving grace. Something to offer to someone if they ever wanted to meet up with him," she continued, taking a long sip.

"What? Who would ever want to meet a guy like this?"

"Hey. This is Squall we're talking about. Despite our little falling out, he's still our friend. I'd like to think of this as a favor we're doing him. So that way, if anyone in the world does find him appealing enough to meet, they'll know what to expect." Selphie arched her eyebrows in disbelief.

"You can't be serious. Quistis, I didn't think you could suck the fun out of this one, but you did it. How can you be so good at that?" Quistis scowled, but her face was so beautiful it looked like a sad expression on a china doll. It almost made Selphie regret saying that in the first place. She sighed heavy, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. "What about something like, 'I never do this online dating thing but...' Will that work?"

"No," Quistis answered tentatively. "No one really needs to know the reason why you join a dating site."

"Miss online dating expert talking, I presume?" Selphie backed herself up on her wheeled desk chair. She spun around to pour herself a glass of wine.

"Well, I guess you could say I know my way around a profile or two...or three."

"Three? And you're still single? I hate to tell you this, but it's not them, its you."

"This isn't about me, okay?" Quisits jutted in, visibly flustered at Selphie's lack of discretion. She guessed a bottle and half of pinot grigio can do that to your inhibitions. One more bottle and they'd probably be practicing french kissing. "I got it." Quisitis strode confidently over to the keyboard and began typing.

_-If we ever meet, I don't ever want to know how you found me. It'll be a funny ongoing inside joke between us. I don't normally like jokes, but I the ironic ones I can tolerate. If you think that's strange, than maybe you shouldn't be online looking for a date in the first place.-_

Quistis stood and crossed her arms in triumph. Selphie had just finished reading the last line and slowly shook her head. "He might be THE most unlikable guy in online dating history."

"Gosh... you think I might've went overboard?"

"No. It's perfect."


	2. The Sea Air Stops Here

**The Things Between Us**

Chapter I: The Sea Air Stops Here

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Sickness was the worst. Especially if you remember what it was like to be healthy. Or, was it the other way around? If you don't remember what it was like to be healthy, was sickness that bad in the first place? He didn't like to think about it. But it attacked his mind, like the angry albatross flock that always attacked his balcony and shit on his windows every morning.

He was convinced that his balcony was one of the dirtiest places in Balamb City, and that was a tall claim. You couldn't make it very far without maneuvering around some kind of trash or fecal matter. His apartment was a different story. Things fit there, it was a center of some kind of balance, even if the city itself seemed to always be on a downward incline.

Everything smelled like fish and sand. He was miles from the beach, yet it was all he could smell. If bird shit had a smell, he wouldn't mind switching aromas for a day. Time was a strange thing here. It wasn't linear, nor was it chaotic. It was systematic, but layered over moment by moment like transparencies on a projector.

The coffee was good today as he turned on the television. It was always on the BNN. The anchor with the pretty smile was giving her spin on the failing governor's economic policy. He muted it and looked at his watch. The Governor was always being raked over the coals by the media. And it was on his watch (figuratively, of course).

When the calls came, He expected it moments before the phone rang. He always picked up around the fifth or sixth ring.

"Leonhart, get your ass down here! We got trouble." The voice was small and raging over the receiver. He didn't flinch at it.

"What's happened?"

"Good Hyne, doesn't anything rattle you? I was joking. But now that you mention it, there's been movement in the Timber Energy deal."

"Yeah?"

"That's hella good news, especially this early in the hyne-dammned morning. Now are ya comin' in or not?"

"I'll be there." He nearly hung up the phone, before the faint voice stopped him.

"Oh and Squall. She's un-fired. Get her ass in here too. The press is killing me." Squall knew his boss always got the definitive phone slam. One day, he'd grab one for himself. He expectantly looked at the door moments before it was knocked at.

He'd answer by the fourth or fifth ping.

Quisits Trepe always had her hand on the door knob and swung it open to let herself in. She was fresh faced as she stalked in her too-high heels to his kitchen counter.

"You're unfired," Squall said, un-muting the television. The sentiment seemed not to faze the two as they got absorbed into the Balambese News Network. The polls, the projections, the criticism of their boss was some satisfaction. Quistis and Squall weren't the only ones who thought the Governor was an idiot.

"We've got some work cut out for us," she said after taking a long gulp of coffee. Her curves were exquisite in her gray pencil skirt and too small vest. Her blonde hair was left to fall in thick heaps over her shoulder, while her blue eyes gave away the only indication that she'd been drinking the night before.

"When the economy's bottom is falling through the media's going to pick the easiest target. Let's go." He grabbed his suitcase leaned against the wall next to the door. The hallway leading from his apartment was long and disgusting, puddles of what he presumed to be toilet water formed in random pools along the walk way. The elevator was always crowded with busy commuter assholes who decided to leave their apartments the same time he did. The lobby was dingy and the doorman was fat. When he first saw the brochure for Government Employee Housing (GEH), they marketed the Doorman as a major selling point for some reason.

Outside, the streets were narrow and went downhill. It had rained last night so Squall's shoes were in for some punishment this morning. His suit was black, his tie was black. Everything he wore ate up light. Quistis warned that the sun would eventually cook him. The trolly was always on time and it was always full. Even when it was empty he never sat. Quistis rubbed at her eyes and restlessly looked out of the windows. He would have asked how she was doing if they were on those kind of terms. It was strictly business between the two now. It's been like this for a year. Her pretending nothing was wrong, him doing his best to remain professional despite her habits of encroaching on his life, like coming into his apartment every morning. Even on days off she was there.

It wasn't like anything had really changed. He had never talked much to begin with. The only thing different now was he'd given up on showing glimmers of giving a fuck. It delighted her and their friends, but now he went without it.

It wasn't like he never cared. It was never that. Showing that he did was just so much work. Quistis and rest were on their on now. A woman seated on the trolly gave him a once over, her brown eyes seemed to get lost in his tailored black shirt with the silk collar.

The trolley lurched to a stop and Quistis and Squall pushed their way off of the trolly and began to climb the unnecessarily long cement stair case to the State House. Behind Squall's apartment, it was the second cleanest building in Balamb City.

The sea air stopped here. Instead it smelled of misery, debt, bribes, and closet lechery. Squall didn't prefer one stink to the other, it was just another transparency sheet, after all. "Hey guys!" Nida always waited for the pair to walk through the glass spinning doors.

Quistis grabbed one of the three cups the young man expertly balanced in his hands. Squall nodded to Nida and swiped his as well. Nida was an Operations Director for the Governor but reported to Squall and Quistis on internal affairs and received orders from them or directly from the Governor. "We've all been keeping our eyes on the news and it doesn't look good for us, guys. What the hell is Wrenly thinking?" Quistis shrugged, passing through a security check and entering the elevator. She waited for both men to pass inside before she chose the 10th floor.

"Wrenly's checked out, I'm guessing. His term is coming to an end, his reelection noms are looking slim, and half his campaign are looking for jobs with other candidates." Quistis sipped casually, while a guilty silence passed between the three. They were in the half looking for new jobs.

"I feel sorry for him," Nida said, leaning on the wall, watching the numbers light up one by one.

"Why? His investments and dividends have never looked better. He'll be a rich man by the time this is over," Squall said. Nida's plain features dropped into a deadpan.

"Riches over a failed career? I guess I can see that. But if I was in his shoes I'd try to make things right." The tenth floor finally came about. Nida was supposed to use that time to brief them on any goings on in the lower departments. But he'd always end up gossiping.

"You'd make a great politician, Nida. But you're ideals keep you in lower management." Quistis and Squall brushed passed him, leaving him alone in the elevator. Nida furrowed his brow.

"So you're saying my ideals hold me back?"

"In a city where seagulls don't even fly straight, what makes you think your dreams will?" Nida slacked off, a little stunned at Quistis' sardonic piece of advice. He let the elevator door shut.

Quistis turned to Squall then. "Someone had to tell him," she said, moving passed him. Squall barely shrugged before realizing that he completed agreed with the whole dream thing.


	3. Orchid

**The Things Between Us**

**_Chapter II: Orchid_**

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From the elevator, Quistis heard someone yelling from behind the entry doors to the Governor's office. Not that it was an uncommon thing, but the fact that this was happening relatively early in the day was a little disconcerting, especially since the Timber Energy deal had made some significant progress. They entered the office.

"What the hell did you do?!" This came from Mr. Poloch, the Governor's closest adviser. Although it kept under tight wraps, these men were second cousins, Poloch co-owning a media conglomerate based in Deling City, Galbadia. He was holding a piece of paper in his hands, steadily crumpling it as he continued to question the Governor. Quistis assumed it was some printed inappropriate e-mail he had caught the Governor sending to one of the interns.

She reconsidered. Poloch was too heated, and it looked like he had been going for a while. She saw Squall from the corner of her eye, take a long sip from his cup. Checking his cell, probably looking through a news app to see if anyone had any breaking news.

Governor Wrenly was a mildly handsome man, past his prime, tired and sad. But he looked good in a suit, and when he talked, people listened to him. He was hunched over his desk, loosening his tie as he held the weight of his head in his palms while his elbows dug into papers on his desk.

Something was going on. Or was just getting started. After inhaling deeply, she stepped into the fray. "What's going on?" Quistis wedged herself between Mr. Poloch and the desk the Governor sat at. Taking a seat at the edge of the desk she listened.

"She's pregnant." There was dried spit gathering at the right corner of his mouth. He was a far cry from the man that was reelected two years ago.

The room went silent, as if an invisible tidal wave had flooded the room. Squall looked up from his phone, leaning on the table. Quistis half laughed, "What? One of the interns?"

"I wish," Wrenly said guiltily.

"Who?" Squall demanded, setting his coffee down and moving closer.

"My partner's wife. Fucking idiot... How the hell am I going to explain this to Jackman? The man has a little penis and a big ego. He's going to kill you!" Poloch took out a cigarette.

"How? ..W..When?" Quistis was in shock. She wasn't in charge of his schedule or anything, but she recalled that most of his events, dinners, galas, and meetings were in Balamb. At the very most, the farthest an event would be were the yacht parties held at the shared neutral zones between the Balambese and Dolletian oceanic territories. She could indeed imagine his lechery, but he was smarter than to fool around at events so close to home. She wondered when he could have gotten the free time to take another mistress and get her pregnant no less.

Was there some kind of yacht party that she didn't know about? Yacts from Deling City were known to join parties on three day tours around the Galbadian coast and in the neutral zones. It was said that a lot of business deals were made and broken at these parties. Quistis shuddered at the idea of so many ego driven business men in the same place shopping for politicians to put in their pockets.

"Three months ago. You told me to make up a late evening meeting and place it on your schedule. You told me to have your wife informed of this change. What did you do that night?"

"Poloch's 34th anniversary party for the Galbadian Herald." Wrenly said as his jaw slackened. He wasn't fazed by Squall's remarkable memory. Nothing seemed to faze him.

"The hell... I didn't invite you to that, you jackass. Probably because I knew you would screw it up. How did I not see you there?"

Quistis rubbed her forehead. How did she get involved with such men? Recounting the drunken details of a party on the ocean a few months ago. Who they'd slept with, who they told to fuck off. She inwardly cringed, this sweating man was Governor of Balamb. for Hyne's sake. The people were cheated into voting for a man that did not exist. Suddenly, Nida's sparkling idealism was preferable over the trail of lies, guilt, sperm, and vodka, that always followed Wrenly.

Poloch was apparently already drunk and had to leave early that night and did not run into Wrenly who came considerably later. "She invited me," Wrenly was saying. "We'd gotten to know each other through some shere-site the interns showed me."

Quistis' mouth went dry. It was the only dating site local to Balamb. Its domain name was simply 'Island'. .ba.

She remained silent, the frightening details of wine, Selphie, and making a total mockery of the online dating scene washed over her. 'GSN dot island dot B A Forward slash...Squall L.,' She breathed. That profile was still live. She was wasted last night. It was a perfectly funny idea at the time, but now, considering the catastrophic shit storm the Governor was creating around himself and his office, he could take Squall down with him if the media ever found out about the profile.

Not that it was illegal to have a dating profile in Balamb or anything, but once this story broke, anyone connected to that site would look like a total creep. She gulped loudly, adjusting her glasses as her ears tuned back into the conversation. But there was none.

"Did you say something, Quistis?" Squall asked distractedly scrolling through his phone. Quistis answered by shaking her head quickly, and diverting her attention to the paper in Poloch's hand. "Kaldea Caraway. At least that was her name before she got married to..." Squall hadn't paid any attention to Quistis' fidgeting as he began to type more into his phone. "...Dorem Jackson. Of the Jackson Printing Company. Sole printer of the Galbadian Herald and Poloch's business partner." Squall let that sit in the air, as the gravity of it all began to settle.

"C-Caraway?" Quistis knew the name well. They were a powerful family in Deling City with extensive ties in the military, political scene, and economy of Galbadia.

"That wasn't her profile name. 'Orchid'. Orchid was... I didn't know who she was until I saw her at the party."

"Yeah?" Poloch challenged. "And how long did you know her before then?"

"Two months." After receiving dagger stares from all in the room, he rebutted. "Only through emails and chats, though. There was nothing like that going on... until the party."

"And that was three months ago," Squall said. Quistis guessed this was a bit more than a leud affair. Five months was a long time to spend in a fling.

"Do you love this girl?" Poloch asked, candidly, silencing Quistis' mind. Wrenly did not answer right away, but Quistis saw some kind of ripple go through him, as if that was the first time anyone had asked him that question.

Quistis scoffed at the notion. Kaldea Caraway was a social pariah, and black sheep to the Caraway family. Every few months there was something new about her in the tabloids. She hasn't been heard from since her marriage to Jackson four years ago. There was no way there was love between them, at least not on her part. Kaldea had found her way back into the headlines again.

This was a headache. "What's that paper you're crumpling up?" Quistis asked, an edge of frustration sharpening her tone.

"It's an e-mail. From her." Poloch said, handing over the print out. "I caught Wrenly over here crying at his desk this morning. If he wasn't such a wimp, we might not have even found about it." Quistis didn't take the paper.

"What does it say?" she asked.

" 'We need to talk.

I'm coming to Balamb by train.

Midnight run. I'm pregnant.' -Orchid. " Poloch read the email with disgust.

"Are you going to meet her?" Squall asked, crossing his arms. Wrenly for the first time, raised his head and sat back on his chair, his head looking toward the ceiling. His tone was subdued.

"Squall," he started, closing his eyes. "I'm going away for a while. Please take care of Kaldea until I return. I'll give you a private account. See to their comfort in every way." He rubbed his eyes until his fingers looked like they were going to go right through the sockets.

"Quistis, please deliver these to my wife." He opened the first drawer and extracted a catalog sized envelope, its clasp never used. Her shoulders slumped as she realized that once again she was getting the grunt work.

Quistis took the envelope being handed to her, knowing already what the documents were.

Divorce papers.

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**A/N: **I had no idea anyone had read this. I wish I'd seen these reviews before. But I haven't been on the site in forever. If you're still down for a fast paced, off beat, story please show some love. I want to write this!

Till next time

**_D. Pollen_**


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